The Opelousas courier., 1887-02-05

said then she would have all she wanted
because it troubled me to think that, fo
all his grief today, Dennis wouldn't b
like any other man in the world If b
didn't marry tomorrow; and the othe
wife would have the long life with him
and become dearer and dearer, and Loui
would fade into just a beautiful dream
and when the next life came, it would b
the dear wife of the long-continuin|
time that would be his companion, ant
Louie would be all alone if it wasn't TO
the baby, and she had said that the bab,
was enough. Of course all this was onl,
a sort of flash through my consciousness
not any deliberate thought. Nobod,
could have thought about anything o
the kind who saw Dennis's grief. FL,
was all beside himself. I don't like Il
tell you what he said and did; I wal
half afraid sometimes that a thunderbol
would fall and destroy him; and thc1
again / was afraid that he would destroy
himself. don't know how we ever con
trived to get. him to let Louie be placed
in her casket, and | thought he would
lump into the very grave itself. But at last
that agoni ing time-cvery moment Of
which knows how to give a fresh stab
was over, and the worse time came,
of the absence and silence, and wild,
vain, bitter longing. And Dennis couldn't
look at the baby. ''Take it away" he
said. 1T killed herm So | took him into
my own room, AMI cuddled him close to
my heart every night, and every morning
he awoke me with his laughing and CUR
Cling and growing, playing with the
shadows of the dancing leaves across the
bed; and he had Louie's vel ow hair and
rosy cheeks and perfect features, her
great longing blue eyes, and Dcnnis's
black eyebrows, and every day he grew
dearer and dearer, and more inexpressi-
bly, dear, and said to myself that, much
as | missed poor Louie, here had been
made up to me oil / had failed of in my
life; for this child was to take the place
to me of mother and sister and husband
and child altogether. And the dearer
he grew, the more angry I became with
Dennis for his indifference; and one day,
when the boy was about four months
Old, I said:
Il think you had better let old Nancy
in again and do your chores, the way
she used to do, and I will go away and
take the baby"
''Take the baby?"
Certainly" / said. sfYou can't bear
the sight of him, and | love him. And
then if ever you marry again.
Il shall never marry again" he said,
gloom settling IN his eyes.
Il don't believe you will" I ex-
II don't believe there's the
living who will ever take such
unnatural, wicked father, for her hus-
band! Louie's own child. too, and the
very image of her. I wonder what she'd
link of you!" And l snatched the baby
Up oat of the cradle, and ran from the
Dom, lest I should break out crying be-
ore his face.
The next afternoon when Dennis came
n from his work, he went and made
himself all nice, and changed his clothes,
md came down to where / stood in the
ide-door with the baby in my arms,
boxing at the sunset. And he stopped
o take the child; and the little darling
urned, with a low, fright ned cry, and
nd his face in my neck. And thu all
t once the tears that l hadn't seen Den
is cry in all this time, gushed out, and
e pat his arms around the child, who
egan to scream with terror; and as /
aft turned and maintained my own hold,
g took him forcibly away from me.
Let go" he said, in his low, half
nothered tone. lies my childm
II suppose he isl" / cried. "By some
licked form of law, the cruel law that
len made for men. But you don't de-
srve him"
I never was so angry. I thought I
ould take my things and go away that
But how could I leave the
ably? His little screams were torturing
g then. / SIT down on the door-stone,
flung my apron owe my head, and
1T my thumbs in my ears, and wished
le baby and | we're dead along with
ouie.
Perhaps it was an hour afterward I
hen Hooked up, and there was Dennis I
ming through the orchard with the
by, and the boy was Growing and .
mping and catching at the bending i
'ughs,ani catching at his fathers I
cat mustache, and rubbing his little !
lips all over Dennis's face. chirrup- 9
g and joyous; and | couldn't help it, I
to meet thfm. 4
"You see," said Dennis, as he let me t
We him back, ''blood is thicker than
tier, after all. e
Oh! what a long journey / felt as if Il
at baby had been on asI took him and J
ald hardly have done kissing him. c
Come said Dennis, laughing, t
someth ng of him for me-" +
Il was the first time he had laughed 0
that child was born. And the dar- D
g had gone a long journey journey q
the infinite depths of q fathers !
art. t
Well, after that, Dennis couldn't get 7
me early enough in the afternoon, and 3
seemed as if he hated to go away In 0
, morning, and Sundays he had the II
by in his arms from morning till night. q
ID in the evenings, when | sat sewing i
the little clothes, he would come and !.
opposite, or where he could see how j.
work went on; and he brought home g
sorts of little, impossible toys, and al
talked and sang to him, and walked c.
b him; and the baby began to look II
Tor his coming as much as I did. And az
that, of course, helped. me a good deal
my work about the house, for / kept
rything rs fine and orderly as a honey
NIB; only, with the baby to tend and A
to, ! sometimes had to sit up nights re
10 it. q
7 shall call Inn Louie, for his ae
ther, 7 said Dennis, n night. ci
DO VOL think you can bear. it?' IN
ed. d,
To hear him called Louie7 Yes. He 81
4ouie yer again, = said Dennis. "
I'll RI -Z.al n q Z, 8&#& RH&g8E FEa%5EI Al